Kermit
by belle-kell
Summary: When a Safeway employee is pestered daily about someone's unfortunate loss of a certain Kermit the Frog cap, what can happen? Love, maybe? Read to find out. One-shot Zemyx, AU, fluff, and Starbucks.


**So... a little warning, here. This was my "throw in massive SAT words everywhere" stage. Please, uh. Just ignore that little characteristic, and focus on the cute Demyxness? And then we can all pretend that I don't blush like I'm pretending to be a tomato while re-reading this. God. It's so embarassing, I want to hide in a corner ;_; but I still hope you guys really enjoy it, anyway :D so. Enjoooy~**

**Disclaimer: We all know I don't own shit, pffft. Except for the idea, and all that.**

**x…x**

The act of falling in love often involves frustration or heartbreak. Whether it be jealousy, hardship or the consequences of your own actions, and whether the process be painstakingly long or incredibly short, the path to finding the person for you is… well, to be frank, sometimes a terribly degrading thing.

It was the second day of the winter season when Zexion was unknowingly assigned to cash register number six. The gaunt youth had applied for the job at Safeway a few weeks back, it being a part-time sort of gig while he attended a nearby college as a freshman. He knew he'd someday be working in a much less obsequious position anyways, yet something about the occupation kept reminding him of just how low he felt in society as a young adult, which only dragged down his terrible mood even more so.

The nineteen-year-old had come into work at 5:30PM, feeling utterly degraded as he deigned to work in this place, burgundy sneakers squeaking with each step on the beige tiles. His recently met and greeted co-workers already knew him as the employee who wouldn't talk much, but when he did, they all better damn listen to him and respect him. And almost everyone did, as well… except for Axel. Damn kid, he didn't even want to think about him. There was a girl called Larxene as well, a young vixen who didn't take any shit from anyone. At first, Zexion had felt that it was somewhat of a becoming trait of hers, but it soon was exposed to be just another sickly quality in her manipulative character.

Zexion had an almost cocky air to him, and it seemed as if not acknowledging that may have been deleterious to the health of those surrounding him. Perhaps that was why these two hectored him so; for they didn't seem to care either way if they bothered him. Maybe that would change someday, and he wouldn't have to threaten to strangle Axel whenever he called him "the No Sex Zex…" ugh. He would have to hire someone to key his car, eventually.

Ringing up countless items one by one, whether they were chocolate bars, raspberries, French bread, or condoms, Zexion could only remind himself that minimum wage would be aiding his parents in his financial support for an education.

"Excuse me," an optimistic voice had captured his attention immediately, and all the while tossing slate bangs from his eyes, he looked to the source of the melodic words. A slightly taller teen (maybe by two or three inches) stood beside the current customer who's items he was ringing up, oceanic eyes wide and curious. His hair was beyond risible, each individual sandy strand sticking up in a Mohawk, yet the backside resembled a mullet. It made Zexion even less upbeat about his new position as a cashier.

"Please wait a moment," he muttered an apology to the woman waiting to have her items scanned, but she merely nodded in understanding.

"Has anyone turned in a Kermit the Frog cap to the lost-and-found?" his eyes shone as he spoke the words, hopeful optimism leaking through.

"Excuse me, sir?" Zexion spoke, eyes nearly void of emotion as he understood that this was most likely some sort of joke. A Kermit the Frog cap? The young philomath wasn't amused by this. Did they even produce those? He wouldn't know…

"My Kermit the Frog cap," he continued, placing one hand over his head in a cheerful gesture, his smile wide. "Uh… Zexion," he finished, as if acknowledging the employee's nametag would help the situation. The cashier merely exhaled in fastidious manner, holding back the urge to roll his eyes at the trifling adolescent.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe anyone has turned in any sort of headwear, sir. May I help you with anything else?" he strained to maintain a calm and polite tone. The boy with the big blue eyes had his face contort in an inappropriate conduct, for surely one who loses a Kermit the Frog cap doesn't look as if someone had kick-punted a puppy, correct? This person did. This perplexed Zexion, but he didn't dare voice his interest.

"Oh… no, that's okay. Sorry for bothering you, then," his lips upturned in a thin smile, but his eyes remained disappointed to what surely must be an exaggerated extent. Why would something that mustn't cost more than twenty dollars cause someone to look so crestfallen? The employee supposed he would never find out.

After the black of night started to bleed into the establishment, the clock struck ten P.M. and Zexion finally resigned from his late shift. He walked out into the parking lot apathetically, located his vehicle and had begun to unlock the old thing. That is, until his ears detected the rustling of nearby bushes, the ones so very close to the parking space his car sat in. Turning to the side to face the peculiar noise, he noticed spiky hair glisten in the street lights, and a familiar tanned face being lit up as well.

That boy was still out here? Looking for that cap, honestly?

His hands were separating the branches and leafs of each bush individually, expression so very focused, as if he was studying for his SATS, not searching for his Kermit headwear. Zexion found this to be excessively puerile, and it irritated him greatly. Go buy another one at Hot Topic or something, kid, he thought to himself, a grim expression gracing his features as he climbed into the front seat of the vehicle.

At least the abnormal blond most likely wouldn't be visiting again soon. He'd probably throw in the towel by the next day… it was just a cap, after all.

**x…x**

"Zexion, has anyone turned in my cap yet?"

The cashier had apparently figured wrong. It was the next evening, nine-thirty P.M., and his usual shift was ending in less than thirty minutes, for the store closed at that time as well. No one was in his checkout line, so the blond made himself at home in the miniature isle.

"I know I asked yesterday too, but I just figured…" he trailed off, a pouting moue crossing his face. Just as Zexion was about to respond, he spoke once more. "If it helps, it has Kermit's face stitched into the front. It's light green all the way around," he sticks a figure up in the air knowingly, while the other notes that this person talks with his hands to an excessive extent. And what was with this "Zexion" shit? Like knowing his name changes anything? If it affected anything at all, it only rose the person in subject's irritation with the other.

The cashier glares. "Nobody has turned it in. Sorry," unlike last night, his tone as of this evening is slightly more reproachful. He knows he might be expected to be more assiduous to this scapegrace of a man, but understands that this person is _not_ in any way a _threat_ to him.

The lithe blond's inner feelings to his response are pellucid, sapphire eyes drooping in disappointment. "Ah," he mutters, "that's okay. Thank you," that thin smile once more, a pitiful attempt to mask his sadness on that expressive face.

The slate-haired employee watches with faint curiosity as the other exits the store. Why, oh, _why_ was that cap so damn special?

It went on like this. Night after night, minus weekends, of course, Zexion would come into work in that same beige uniform, ruby-red apron adorning his font, matching visor atop his head. The young hopeful would stroll along as well, childlike optimism radiating from him, spiky golden hair bouncing with each step. The employee would scowl in natural response, before being questioned on the whereabouts of the other's cap. Zexion would first glare up at the teen, angered by the small measurement that separated their heights, and then would strain to give a polite response, denying any knowledge of the accessory.

It was a little more than two weeks of the same routine. Zexion was starting to wonder how _long_ this would continue for. Frankly, the slate-haired male wasn't the most patient guy out there, and the curious boy was starting to irk him a tad bit more every day that this went on.

It was a cold January night, the whispers of the harsh winds smacking against the Safeway as if they were flaming arrows. The tall one with a wiry figure had strolled in from the darkness that surrounded the outside, and with that, it was marked the shift in which Zexion snapped at the person that was hectoring him night after night so _damn_ inexorably.

"What's so significant about this cap that you must always come to _me_ for it?" ferocity wrapped around his words as they flew from his lips, "go buy another one already! Stop bothering me with your petty matters! No one is going to turn the damn thing in!" his outburst was somehow not loud enough to alert a co-worker of his, but it was certainly enough to frighten the male. Taken back and eyes wide with astonishment, the regular stepped back with his gaze directed to the floor morosely.

"Sorry," he mutters, voice plagued with vulnerability. This is unexpected to Zexion, for maybe his outburst's consequences weren't exactly pondered beforehand. But since when did he care about anybody else's emotions in the first place? He didn't. The human being is such a weak creature to begin with, so easy to mentally hurt. "It's, uh, it's for sentimental reasons," his blue eyes flickered upwards from the ground, meeting the other's momentarily. The amount of emotion that they held nearly troubled the slate-haired man, or perhaps he was plainly not expecting a response of that kind. Either way, he felt the slightest tinge of regret. "My brother gave it to me a few years back. I'm surprised it still fits, actually," a wistful smile, the same one he wore whenever Zexion had denied sight of the cap. "He passed on recently. I've been wearing the thing ever since, but some things kind of happened... it got out of hand, and now it's lost," focus on the tiles once again. Scratch the former, Zexion felt a strong _tug_ of remorse grip at him. Yet, the teen was above apologizing… as of right now, anyway.

"Sorry for bothering you." Yes, he was certainly above apologizing. "I didn't mean to. Honest," why was _this person_ doing that, then? And with that expression, the one that had witnessed a kick-punted infant animal.

It made Zexion feel like completely and utter trash to observe.

Yet, he didn't speak further. The employee merely watched as the taller adolescent made his way to the automatic doors, stepping out into the black of the night once more. It must've been colder than the cashier had previously thought; he could swear that he saw the boy's shoulders tremble as he walked.

**x…x**

Six days had passed.

The usually omnipotent Zexion, also well-known megalomaniac by his friends, co-workers and family alike, seemed to be strangely out of character as of late. The usual method of correcting and informing those who made an obvious mistake, whether it be their horrid grammar or merely their lack of common knowledge, seemed to as of now be completely obsolete. The gaunt youth was usually… somewhat talkative, you might say. To those that he tolerated being around, he could hold up his end of the conversation quite well. Yet, only recently, all he would do when questioned was give a hard glare, cobalt eyes peeking through his disheveled strands of slate hair that hung loosely.

Quite frankly, it scared the living _crap_ out of Sora. The poor kid had to sit next to him in his business ethics course, the _one_ and _only_ hour and a half slot that the boy was near failing. The college freshman had taken a liking to speaking with Zexion, as it seemed his speech was _fraught_ with _fact_ after _fact_ of knowledge and Sora fucking _needed_ that to pass this class.

"Hey, hey, Zexy?" his chestnut spikes would bounce as he whispered to the aspiring scholar to the left of him. The large wooden desk supported his elbows quite well, as Sora scooted closer to Zexion. "What exactly did Mr. Strife mean when he used Starbucks as part of his analogy?"

The lithe teen threw him a glare that suggested defenestration was imminent. "Don't you dare call me that," was all the response that he was given, along with that sinister eyebrow tilting thing that he could do. The very thought of being on this person's bad side made Sora shudder with unease.

Zexion was quite aware that he wasn't even sure of this person's name; the boy with the messy blonde hair, that is. He didn't know how old he was, or if he had a job, or if he had any friends or family. Zexion couldn't guess where he purchased his clothing from (other than Hot Topic) and he couldn't speak to him by choice, only from his post at Safeway, hours being five-thirty to ten P.M., minus weekends. He didn't know how on Earth his hair could defy gravity with such blithe (a gargantuan amount of hair-gel? Or did it just… do that naturally? Can that happen?) and he wasn't aware of his favorite things to do. Zexion could go on forever with the absent facts about this male, the one who had pestered him for two weeks about his precious Kermit cap. His favorite musician? Unknown. Even the simplest of all, his preferred color, was a mystery to Zexion.

As his slim hands slid back and forth on the polished wood of one of the many lecture hall desks, a frustrated sigh blew through his lips. Sora merely hummed in curiosity, as Zexion's fingertips flew skyward to massage his temples.

_Why_, oh, _why_, was he caring about this right _now_ of all times? He couldn't have pondered this when he could actually get in _contact_ with him?

**x…x**

It was that same day that Zexion caught sight of _him_ again. And, man, if the confident young male had once thought that he was gifted when it came down to using words, his ability to leave a person astounded with the way his speech whisked with intellectual capability, then he had never been so damn wrong in his whole life. But what worried him even more than his sudden inability to speak, was that without speaking, the blond wouldn't even be able to take notice of him.

He had been late to work. Yes, yes, the forever punctual and debonair Zexion had been veritably _not on time_ for his shift today at Safeway, thanks to his extremely inconvenient trait of napping whenever the opportunity was presented. As he had stepped in the doorway to his apartment, the sun sliding through the sky at what seemed to be a much slower pace than usual, the sleepy male had collapsed upon his twin-sized bed and promptly slipped into a halcyon slumber. The crinkle and texture of the white comforter that spread across the sheets, the cool feel of his tired head laid out upon the fluffy pillow… he was a sucker for it.

And that, my dear friends, is why Zexion stood in the archway of the employee lounge, body faced out to the rest of the establishment. A long hall was all that separated him from the many customers. For, at the very end of said hallway, he was smacked in the face with the surprising sight of the boy with the sandy-blonde hair, it all styled up in that same peculiar Mohawk/mullet thing. Wondrous blue eyes were focused away from him, as his feet were leading in the opposite direction as well.

And, of all times, Zexion's everlasting fountain of confidence had been run dry _right_ _now_? But, what would he say? The lanky youth had never even had to wonder that before, because the right words simply came to him, no questions asked. But he couldn't just let this be his last sight of him, for he would surely regret it at a later time.

What was he doing back here, anyway? Was he going to ask about his cap again? Zexion pushed himself forward, forcing his feet to trudge ahead, and the motion quickly became a confident stride. Why had he not come back for six days, without a single word of clarification? Certainly, the employee's little outburst couldn't have bothered him _that_ much… the idiot! If he would've just have given the cashier a chance to flipping apologize, or something! Because now that he truly considered it, maybe he _should_ have shown some remorse for speaking so cruelly. Reparation might have been in order.

But, then again, why was Zexion caring so much about this situation? Was it plausible that maybe the upbeat disposition of the kid had maybe… he wasn't sure. Perhaps he had eventually begun to develop a penchant for it. Or, at the very least, it had been gradually growing on him… _fuck_, he had really screwed himself up here. Zexion rarely ever backed himself into a mental wall, but when such situation arose, he was quite aware of it.

"Hey," he spoke evenly, eyebrows tilted downwards in hidden frustration with himself. The male turned his head around to seek the unforeseen voice, bright eyes filled to the brim with childlike curiosity. Zexion was a mere yard behind him, arms crossed as he wore a small pout of indignation. "Did you… ever find your cap?" his words held an element of shame, one that the boy in question did not miss.

"Ah, no, I didn't," he smiled longingly, running a hand behind his neck to scratch at it innocently. It bothered Zexion. "But I think I might soon, you know?" he laughed in a melancholy fashion, proving to the employee that such a miserable sound could actually resound from such a cheerful person.  
>He knew what he had to do to relieve his heavy conscience. "You… you might," he begun, taking another small step forward towards the man. Zexion's hand moved to the inner fabric of his pants pocket, reaching in and grasping at a small plastic device. "What's your cell phone number," a mumble, barely even a question more so than a comment, as he seemed heavily focused on actually retrieving the object. This amused the other.<p>

"Uh, why do you need it?" he giggled, eyebrows raising as the slate-haired male finally pulled out the cellular device. He glanced up to the inquirer apathetically, his present emotion carefully hidden away in another realm.

"To help you find your damn cap, I need to be able to contact you, of course," he huffed matter-of-factly, flipping open the cell phone to the home screen, and pressing a few small buttons with thin fingertips. Each number that was struck made a slight beep tone, and the blond resisted the urge to sing along with the developing pattern.

"You want to help me? For serious?" he wore a genuine smile, and as Zexion drew upwards from the task of observing his expression, there was the most lilliputian second where he wanted to punch him in the face. He refrained, but decided to keep the idea in his back pocket. Or perhaps just keying his car would work a bit better… it'd teach him not to degrade the employee, with his… goddamn _innocent_ expressions.

"I feel your cause is pathetic enough to require some attention, so, yes, I do want to assist you," the blond just chuckled at the response, before deciding that the expression that Zexion made while pouting was pretty damn cute. The taller one of the pair snagged out an i-Phone from his pocket as well, and brought up his list of contacts.

"It's 363-341-869," a tenor voice was still obviously amused by the slate-haired boy's actions, as other began to peck in the numbers slowly. It was simple to see that the cashier had little-to-no experience in texting or finding the numbers quickly.

"What about your name?" Zexion questioned… had he never told this guy his name? Yeah, _smooth_, Demyx, smooth.

"It's Demyx. Demyx Valentine," he hummed, a wide yet thin smile adorning his face. Zexion entered the name letter by letter, the single cobalt eye that revealed itself seeming to be quite focused on the relatively easy task.

The customer asked for the other's information as well, and Zexion handed it over without argument. It was only by the time that Axel had begun to holler at the shorter one that he figured he should actually be getting to his post. "Dammit, you don't let me flirt with my own flipping boyfriend! And you're actually _friends_ with Roxas! If I can't socialize, then you can't either!" The two boy's both exchanged their goodbyes, before parting ways. Zexion pattered over to his usual station, and for once, he did not dread his occupation. Well, not as much anyways. Nonetheless, he was relieved to find that his heart felt much lighter after speaking with the customer.

He couldn't resist tossing his light hair from his eyes, taking one last glance behind his shoulder to observe the boy retreating from the establishment. Oh, right, his name was Demyx. Demyx… huh, he supposed he would need to remember the name of the person that he would call the next day.

He had fixed the problem, without even apologizing. Zexion mentally patted himself on the back from the sudden burst of self-satisfaction, but as the sight of the messy blond head vanished from view, the winsome feeling nestled inside of Zexion's heart was stolen away with his presence.

**x…x**

Demyx strode down First Avenue with an omnipresent grin, baggy pants falling down past his shoes and dragging against the ground. Zexion descried his approach from the corner of the street, body seated casually on the cement curb, fiddling with his thumbs in an almost nervous-like manner.

The blond spotted him fairly quickly, and galloped tantivy over, while the other began to stand from his seat. "Zexion!" he waved, the cold winter air making his breath visible, before finally reaching his destination next to the slate-haired male.

"Demyx," he murmurs in response, cobalt eyes widened in slight surprise due to the other's sudden excitement. "Uhm, so, where did you want to look?" the youth had decided to cut straight to the chase.

"Oh, do you mind if we get some coffee first? Starbucks, you know."

Zexion merely nods, and follows silently as the pair began to navigate through the crowds of the mid-morning streets. The taller of the two begins to strike up a conversation, speaking about how he usually makes a trip to the popular coffee chain every morning.

"Really?" the shorter questions, "every single morning? Doesn't that get old?"

"Nah, I like the baristas there, too. They're all nice people," he hums contently, a skip in his step as he moves along. Zexion pondered the blithe atmosphere that accompanied the blond wherever he went… it was just a rather strange phenomenon. Surely, a person couldn't be so cheerful always. Could that truly be the teen's default expression, a smile?

… It was just so strange. And yet, it was such an ensnaring feeling. Zexion felt it's effects to be very cozy, like a fireplace that radiated the warmth and security of a home. He couldn't hold back such a straightforward question, "hey, why do you smile so much?"

The blond turned to the questioning male, gaze wide and somewhat surprised. Even more unsuspected by the teen, his smile fell somewhat, yet remained in a thoughtful, thin line that perked up at it's own edges.

"Uhm, I'm not really sure. I guess you could call me an optimist," he laughed near the end, a baritone chuckle that cut itself off a bit short. Once more, it perplexed Zexion… but that began to be somewhat of a trend as around this boy. Thus, he merely nodded his understanding (or lack there of) of the other's statement, and the two kept walking down the road until a nearby Starbucks was in sight.

The glass doors were swung open by the energetic arms of the blond boy. It wasn't long before both males had the warmth of coffee swirling in their stomachs, and the taller of the two of them had his curiosity stirred, as they both were seated in a small booth.

"You… you're putting more creamer in? And… more sugar?" a melodic voice inquired hesitantly, almost frightened that his words would be taken as an insult. Zexion simply paused, and looked up at Demyx in an unsurprised air, as if he had gotten the same comment many times before.

"People usually tell me that it's unhealthy to put six to nine packets of sugar in my coffee. I'm aware," he murmurs, eyes focusing back on the drink. He waited for some sort of snide remark from the blue-eyed boy, as others often felt inclined to voice, but was almost astounded when none such was spoken. The teen was even more unsettled when he heard the slightest bit of an affectionate chuckle resounding from the other, his cobalt eyes trailing upwards to witness a sweet smile from Demyx.

"That's kind of cute," he laughs gently, using one hand to gingerly scratch at his collarbone. Zexion isn't sure whether to blush or to throw something at the other, so he settles upon a defiant glare… that may or may not have come out to appear as a pout. The wiry blond started to laugh even more at the flustered teen's expression, which only intensified Zexion's current state of frustration.

As he spoke with this man more consistently throughout their trip to Starbucks, the philomath was slowly uncovering a somewhat startling discovery. Around this other person, Zexion couldn't speak in the same manner as always. Well, perhaps that wasn't the most accurate method in which to describe it. It was more like, he wasn't able to find the right _words_ to speak with. After all, the cashier had always been clever when it had come down to using his words to make conversation. But, now… his tongue just sort of knotted up in his mouth, without any further explanation as to why. And he (quite inconveniently) tended to worry much more over the matter as to what he _would_ say, as well. Because, just maybe, if the wrong words flew from his lips, this person beside him would certainly reveal that distinctly broken expression, oceanic eyes drooping downwards in such a crestfallen manner.

Zexion wasn't sure what to say to Demyx in order to keep the bright blond smiling… but he wanted very much to figure it out.

**x…x**

"Demyx?" a concerned voice utters, gaze peeking out through his disheveled bangs. The teen in question looked over to the shorter one, as they walked in a comfortable silence through the grassy field that lay very close to Zexion's place of work.

Demyx's voice had grown less noticeable throughout the boy's search for his cap. The cashier had been searching a few bushes on the northern side of the expansive field, it's outer-edges bordering a catholic high school, when he had seen the blond's distant gaze reach out to the establishment of learning. He hadn't the nerve to voice his curiosity at the time, however… now, as the solemn look in the boy's blue eyes continued, Zexion worked up the courage to question him on it.

"Uh, sorry. What?" he spluttered out, appearing caught off guard by the other. The slate-haired teen's eyebrows tilted downwards in slight frustration with Demyx, yet still balanced concern as well.

"You've been seeming rather distant. Are you alright?" he managed to mutter, quickening his pace as to walk beside the other adolescent. The lithe teen paused for a brief moment, as if mentally laying out what to say in response to his question.

"Yeah," a polite and well-polished chuckle, "I'm fine. Just… thinking about stuff, you know?" he finished off his sentence with a thoughtful moment of silence, before continuing to speak. "Did you grow up around here?"

Zexion shook his head, light hair swaying from side to side, "no. I grew up in the next town over, which is most likely why I haven't met you before," as the adolescent completed his explanation, he accidently fumbled over a few rocks, causing his body to fall forward, before catching himself in the nick of time. This occasion evoked a fit of laughter from Demyx, and a scowl of death from Zexion.

The blond began to speak, despite giggles of entertainment littering his words. "Then, how old are you? You didn't go to that high school over there, did you?" he gestured toward the catholic establishment, a tall cathedral towering over the rest of the building regally.

"No, I went to the high school residing in my own town. Also, I'm turning twenty in a few months… you're eighteen, right?" the man wasn't quite sure why that question slipped from his lips, but it was greeted with a thin smile, and a polite nod of the head.

Cobalt eyes rested upon some tall trees in the distance, their shadows casting over large portions of the grassy field. Demyx seemed to fixate his eyes over the same general area as well, and suggested that they search over there for his cap.

The two of them reached the tall evergreen trees without an hindrance, and started searching in the prickly bushes for his precious article of clothing. The shorter of the pair was quite interested as to _why _he was searching all around town, and not in one specific area, but didn't dare ask. What if he made that face again? Zexion… didn't want that. So, he tried to avoid the topic for as long as he could, before his unsatisfied curiosity caused him to squeak out unwanted questions.

Demyx's calloused hands treaded through the shrubbery without hesitance, eager to find his beloved cap. Zexion observed the wiry frame a moment more, before pondering the peculiar behavior he had shown earlier while glancing at the school yard. He couldn't withhold another question from escaping him, "did you go to that school, Demyx? Is that why you were looking at it?"

The boy stopped his actions immediately, before speaking. His eyes remained on the sticks and leafs daedal on the ground, however. "Yeah, I'm a senior there, actually," his hands began to move again, sweeping the bushes as if he had never ceased.

Zexion wanted to ask the teen what was wrong. "Oh," was all he could muster, as he continued to examine the other's unsettled figure.

Damn… he was really messed up when he was around this kid.

**x…x**

Though out the day, or, to be more accurate, over the span of three hours time, the two males found out much more about each other.

It had started with the catholic school, which trailed itself into Demyx's friends and his some interesting stories of their antics. All were playful and cherished memories, it seemed, and the blond visibly perked up throughout sharing them with the cashier. Zexion nodded to show his attention, and gradually had begun to open up about his own home life, his parents, and his position at Safeway. He was somewhat concerned that it would be a touchy subject, after his outburst towards Demyx at said establishment… but all his worries were dissolved as soon the cheerful adolescent begun to react to his words with pleasant feelings. It would appear that being in the same vicinity as this childlike teen brought a feeling of warmth in itself, which relived the gaunt man to no extent.

"Are you kidding?" Demyx laughed, as he hauled his lanky body up to another branch of high-stature. The shorter boy watched in astonishment (and perhaps a smidgen of horror) as the other weaved himself through a tall tree lined with green needles. Apparently, it was harder to see if his cap was up there through the branches and needles, as they became rather thick as you climbed higher up. Thus, to insure that he didn't miss anything, he needed to climb to the tip of every tree to check for his headwear. "You've never climbed a tree before, Zexion?" his melodic voice sung, as he sat at least fifteen feet from the ground, butt seated seemingly comfortably on a thick, wooden branch.

"I… uh, no," he barked out, understanding that since Demyx's voice was becoming more faint as his elevation grew, he should probably speak with more volume, as well. "I haven't found a reason to," because, you know, there wasn't a good enough reason in existence to fall to your death.

"Do you wanna come up here with me?" the teen grinned, standing to his feet while his hands gripped a higher branch above him, and the other male held off a cringe of revulsion to the very idea. What if he fell to his unsightly death, limbs all twisted and blood dripping from the myriad amount of scratches adorning his once healthy body?

"Uhm, no. I like being on the ground, thanks," he responded, taking a small step back from the trunk of the old evergreen. The blond let loose a chuckle, the lifted himself up higher into the foliage, and the sight of the teen was gradually lost and blended into the green of the tree. During this time, Zexion let his face crack with dissatisfaction. He almost wished that he was capable of climbing the tree with Demyx… that he could momentarily forget his phobia of falling to the unforgiving ground. Yet, as the blond's face peeked out through the thick greenery, the slate-haired boy couldn't withhold hollering out to him. "But I could always try later!"

The elevated male merely grinned down at him.

The sun was in the center of the clouded sky, gentle winter gusts sweeping the fields, when the senior told Zexion about his commitment to tutoring an underclassmen in science. He had to leave soon, but wanted the college freshman to walk him to the student's home nearby.

"… I still don't understand," an apathetic voice murmurs, as the pair crossed an intersection leading up to their destination. Zexion's pale face was directed downwards to the pavement, eyes half-lidded in an ongoing stream of confusion. He had been aware that he would question the other more so about his Kermit cap at one point, but still dreaded the reaction that would be undeniably thrust upon him.

Demyx looked towards him, omnipresent smile flickering in uncertainty. "Hmm? Zexion, what don't you understand?" a thin line that perked up at it's own edges formed into a miniature smile, yet his face folded upwards in a concerned manner.

"Whenever the question of what happened to your cap comes up, or anything that even vaguely correlates to it, you merely dance around the topic and switch subjects. Why do you do that?"

Blue eyes widened in momentary surprise, smile vanishing as if it had never been. A small chuckle of desperation, or something of the sorts, resembled the one that had emitted from the blond earlier at Safeway. His hand moved to pat Zexion affectionately on the shoulder, stopping both of the boys in their tracks. "Don't worry about it. I'm just… well, it's just really, really personal… and a lot of drama. I don't wanna concern someone like you in it," and with that dulcet explanation, Demyx strode onward, a winsome smile plastered across his face.

Zexion had begun to wonder just how many times that the sandy-haired senior had faked that expression. Perhaps he had good reason to, or something of that altitude… yet, it still itched at him relentlessly.

**x…x**

It seemed as if the deluge of rain would never cease, and the cashier dreaded his lack of proper transportation to work. Sure, it was a meager three blocks from his home, but that also meant that he felt it to be a waste to take a bus to Safeway. Meaning, he would have to slip on his heaviest coat to shield his small body from the drenching water that pounded down from the sky above.

It had been three days since Zexion had spent time with Demyx. It had also been three days since either of them had communicated with each other, and for some basis, the slate-haired (and currently soaking-wet) teen felt that time-span to stretch far longer than it should have. He wasn't completely sure as to why they hadn't contacted each other… but he certainly wasn't one to send a needy text, in the first place. Not that they were friends or anything. No, no, nope… wait, then what were the pair? Acquaintances?

"Hey, stop it!" a squeaky voice huffed, resounding from the parking lot of his place of work. As the man turned the corner into such place, his eyes laid sight on two high school boys, and a much smaller girl. The males were large and intimidating, a heavy bellicose air whisking around them, whilst the female looked as if she was much younger, perhaps a middle-schooler. "Really! Cut it out!" she hollered once more, long braids bouncing upon the curve of her back as she jumped in the air. One of the boys held a cell phone high in the air, and the tiny little thing tried her best to retrieve it from him, yet had no such luck.

Zexion merely scowled at the scene, contemplating stepping in to assist the hapless girl. He could even observe the raindrops pelt against the electronic device, and pondered if the phone would even still be able to operate correctly.

As he drew closer to the entrance of the building, passing by the pair of boys and the unfortunate female, his cobalt eyes broadened in astonishment, and he stopped walking in the midst of the rain.

One of the teenagers sported a Kermit the Frog cap upon his head.

Oh… oh god. He had to do something. It was like a split-second decision, the kind that you make without even fully processing your compromise to do it. Before Zexion was even aware of his actions, he had strode up to the very intimidating-looking young man, and promptly asked him where he had come across his headwear.

"Oh, this piece of shit? I took it from some fag a while ago, but I like wearing it," he snorted, before tipping the visor of the cap and continuing, "it's like a portable trophy." His friend began laughing harder, as the girl kept pouncing up and down, trying to get her cell phone back.

The cashier sighed heavily, taking out his wallet. He honestly didn't want to speak with such a low-life any longer, and took the easy route out. "Here's ten dollars. Give me the cap," he spoke plainly to the boy, who easily towered six inches above him. The delinquent stared down at the bill that was gripped by Zexion's index finger and thumb, before lifting his gaze back to the buyer.

"Twenty dollars."

"Ah, fuck‒ seriously?" he huffed as he pulling out another ten, and relinquishing it to the bothersome (and freaking greedy) kid. He snorted, before taking off the cap and handing it to the drenched man.

The meager piece of headwear was completely wet, and had smudges of dirt and mud scattered over the fabric, but he was thankful that he was able to retrieve the object. Then again… what if it wasn't Demyx's?

"Hey, wait. Where did you say you got this at?" he inquired, turning back once more to the adolescent. The boy was stuffing the cash into his butt pocket, the bills in a crumpled ball. That would irritate Zexion so damn much, having disheveled paper all smushed into his jean's pocket.

"Some homo at our school," icy blue eyes fixated on his buddy, who's hand still gripped a silver cell phone soaring in the air. The girl pounced for it eagerly, high-pitched cries begging him to stop. "Hey, Chad. Tell this guy about that one fag that we got that one hat from," Zexion hated that word. Also, it's called a _cap_, not a _hat_. Hats did not have visors, and caps did. It was that straightforward.

The boy chuckled, and looked down at the brunette with a cold, hard glare. "Hold on, brat. Here's your damn phone back, now run home," with that, he proceeded to punch her shoulder roughly, and then tossed the electronic back to her. Her small hands barely managed to catch it, but she hugged it to her chest, big green eyes staring up at him.

"I'm telling mom!" she squealed, before running off in the opposite direction. The boy laughed heartily, then adjusted his pants to fall just slightly too low below his shirt, to expose a sliver of tan flesh. And, strangely, it really pissed Zexion off, his eyebrows tilted downwards and mouth contorted into a sharp frown of disapproval.

"So, there's this one kid in our grade who's a fucking homo. He's just some scrawny piece of shit, so we wanted to rough him up a bit, so we just kinda took some of his stuff. And, you know," he finished his words with false blow to his own face, fist stopping right before it landed against his cheek. The employee held back a cringe. "It was like two months ago, but we still talk about it," he laughed.

The entrance to the safe haven that was his workplace was less than ten feet away… he could definitely make it. So, he threw a half-hearted wave and a nod, before power-walking his ass into Safeway without a word of farewell.

As soon as Zexion was in the employee lounge, a good ten minutes early, as always, he sat his freezing butt down into one of the neon-orange chairs. The man gingerly placed down the Kermit cap on the plastic, gray table, a sharp frown adorning his face while his mind reeled, desperately attempting to grasp the situation.  
>So… those boys had took this from Demyx. Because, well, Demyx was easily fitted into the "scrawny shit" category, even though… god. What? They had… called him a "homo" and a "fag" as well… did that mean…? Was that smiley, cheerful boy really a homosexual? He supposed it wasn't necessarily a long shot, since apparently one out of ten males were gay… but still. He felt as if he might've known that fact, like that would be an important thing about someone, that you would immediately learn about them. It was actually rather frustrating, that this would be something that Demyx would keep from Zexion… but he supposed that they weren't all that close. They had really only spent time together once, but… but still!<p>

Regardless of the confusing circumstances, the cashier retrieved his cell phone from his pants pocket, after discarding his heavy coat to rest on the coat-rack, water dripping down from the fabric heavily. He searched for the blond's phone number in his contacts, and proceeded to immerse himself in the long process of texting… button after button…

**Someone turned in your cap. **

Zexion wasn't typically the kind of person to spare someone's inner feelings, especially by deceiving them in order to avoid them getting hurt. But… in the case of the hapless blond that unfortunately lost his Kermit cap, he supposed that it was alright to make a minor exception. After all, Demyx would undoubtedly make that pellucid puppy-dog face of miserable heartache, and it would throw the cashier into a fit of guilt. It wouldn't even be his doing, either, but it would nonetheless bother him to no extent.

Within five minutes, all of which were spent staring down at the screen of his social device, Demyx had responded to Zexion's message with words of happiness. He said that he would be around to pick it up soon, about half an hour, and thanked the slate-haired teen repeatedly.

Just as expected, an excited (and very, very wet) blond strode through the glass doors of Safeway in half an hours time. Oceanic eyes wide and his grin bright as the sun, he hopped, skipped and jumped his merry way to register six, eager to greet Zexion.

The employee was focused on prepping his station before officially opening it to the store's customers, but was startled to hear a "Zeeeeexion!" sung by a very familiar voice. He turned to the source of the sound, obviously puzzled by the sudden occurrence of it, but was intercepted mid-turn as another body collided into his. Demyx engulfed the cashier in a giddy glomp, arms slinked around the smaller boy's waist and face nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Zexion froze in a mixture of terror, confusion, embarrassment and anxiety, his eyes wide and body stiff with uncertainty. You could certainly say that the male was definitely not the affectionate-type.

"D-Demyx, uh, y-you're kind of…" he managed to splutter, before the other merely hummed and squeezed the cashier even tighter within his arms. "Oh, god…" however, the blond did in fact release the blushing boy at one point.

"My cap, where is it?" his voice held so much excitement that it nearly unnerved Zexion.

"Uh, it should be in the employee lounge," he began to walk out of his station, "stay here, I'll be right back." Demyx nodded sharply, a wide smile spread across his face.

By the time that the boy had successfully retrieved the cap from the lounge, it appeared that the ray of sunshine was no where to be seen. He was momentarily confused, tossing his light hair from his eyes and searching all around for any sign of the wiry male. It then hit him; the Safeway Starbucks. That'd be pretty messed up if he actually was there, in the miniature coffee shop that presented itself in the store.

He trudged over to the area, it's tiled floors daedal with chairs and small, round tables. And, sure enough, at the register was a sandy-haired, tanned boy, his body much too thin, his big eyes staring up at the menu in pure delight, his heels rocking themselves back and forth. He hadn't yet seen the slate-haired employee, and soon began to speak to the young girl that worked at the register.

"Uhm, let's see... a Grande Caramel Frappuccino, please," he took the time to point up at the menu, as if it would be assiduous to the cashier, "oh, and a Grande Black Coffee," the idea that Demyx remembered what he had ordered three days prior made Zexion crack a subtle smile.

"Would you like whipped cream on that?" she asked, and he nodded vigorously in response, and he handed over some payment to the female happily. Thus, the college freshman tottered over, green cap in his hand. It was still rather damp, but he figured that it couldn't lessen this male's happiness in the least.

"Here you are," he lets the smallest smile slip across his lips, as the sight of Demyx's grin and burst of happiness implodes across his features without any hindrance. His hands reach out and gingerly wrap around the cap, and he gazes down at it in an expression of childlike wonder. Then, his eyes flicker upwards to witness the thin line on Zexion's face, the one that just barely, barely fixated itself into a smile.

Demyx's grin broadened even more so, "you know, this is the first time I've ever actually seen you smile," he chuckled, reaching forward to draw the other into a side-hug. The smaller boy almost froze up, almost turned dead stiff… yet, if only barely, his arm swung around the other's shoulder in a reciprocating manner. And, his smile… it stretched a little farther, as well. Because… if he was to admit to anything, it would be that he was gradually growing to be attached to his person… more so than he would have ever previously imagined.

**x…x**

There seemed to be a trend forming, one where an unusually sanguine blond fell in and out of a moody cashier's life, often without warning, and with increasing frequency.

Once again, it had been quite a boring period of time that the slate-haired man had gone Demyx-less. Not that he needed him, of course, it was just weird to go without his presence for three days straight, especially since there was actually somewhat of a pattern to the subject nowadays.

It wasn't until the clock struck eight on a Saturday night, that Zexion had actually heard from the blue-eyed one. And, frankly, it wasn't much of a shocker that the short teen was stuck at home, studying for a rather difficult college test that was approaching with rapid pace.

His cell phone had been haphazardly tossed onto his bed, and now that he was crouched over at his desk, reading endless paragraphs of informative facts out of text books, it had begun spouting off his annoying ringtone again. He did a double-take, eyes slowly glaring over at the offending object. A growl of irritation rigged it's way through his lips, and Zexion stood from his chair, proceeding to stomp his angry way over to source of the teeth-grating noise.

Yet, the screen read "Demyx."

… So, the studious boy gently gripped the device within his fingers, and flipped the cell phone open. He gingerly pressed the plush of his index finger onto the center button, unveiling a very unsettling message from the typically perky blond.

**Can I please come over? I mean, I don't really know where you live… but if ya gave me directions…**

His face was illuminated by the light that the screen emitted, and he stared down at the words through messy strands of hair that hung loose. The reflection of the confusing message glistened over broadened eyes, and they held nothing within them but the very incarnate of astonishment.

Demyx… wanted to come over to Zexion's apartment.

**Sure, you can.**

Before he was even completely lucid concerning his actions, he had given the questioning adolescent simple directions of how to get to his apartment from Safeway parking lot.

**Thank you! I'll see ya soon then~**

The freshman sighed heavily, collapsing backwards into the soft crinkle of his bed sheets. He weaved a tired hand through his disheveled hair, half-lidded eyes staring up at the ceiling in wonder of himself… but, perplexed thoughts stuck like glue to his brain. Why did Demyx want to come over? … _Demyx_ was coming over.

He would be able to see him in less than ten minutes.

With that little fragment of a statement, the strangest thing occurred. An unknown phenomenon squeezed tightly and grinded Zexion's chest, like a warm implosion of chemicals was spilling into it. The very idea of the sandy-haired boy standing on his doorstep, a wide smile making it's presence known on his face, laughing that it took him long enough to get to the door… oh god. Zexion, practically _asexual… _and here he was, lying on his bed in a mess of entrapping feelings and sensations, staring up at his ceiling with an expression of puzzlement and pure astonishment plastered against his heart.

So, he merely laid there, resting in the sanguine atmosphere that surrounded him. The blissful seconds ticked by slowly, his thin body resting against the comfortable texture of his bed… he just rested, and it felt like a moment free of the stress of life, of college, and of everything.

Until, of course, the fated sound of the resounding doorbell ring.

Now, Zexion would later on say that he did not practically sprint to his front door, almost winded from the sudden movement of his previously still body. That, however, would remain to be a lie.

His hand gripped the ovular doorknob, and proceeded to turn it, gently swinging the restricting plank of wood to the side. Thus, a snow-blanketed boy stood before him, sniffling, uncharacteristically pale, and appearing rather shaken up. White niveous puffs of fluffy snow dotted his clothing, along with sandy hair that stuck up in that same, puerile Mohawk-mullet style.

And yet… Zexion sees evanescent tears blurred into his oceanic eyes, and another tug at his heart is felt, pulling him out to sea with the tides. "M-may I come in? It's freezing out here," he mutters, gaze floating to the floor in shame. He notices that the other's ever-present cap is missing again, and that his face has a few bruises and minor cuts.

… Ah, _fuck_.

Demyx stepped into the apartment, soaking-wet converses dripping onto the floor. His gaze floated upwards, casting one apologetic glance at the mess that he was unintentionally making, and Zexion nodded his understanding whilst the other took off his shoes.

"… Demyx," he sighs, eyes narrowing in concern, searching the other's face mentally, examining for further wounds and scratches. A purplish marking graced across his cheek bone, while a few cuts lined his cheeks.

The boy hesitates for a long moment, and the freshman waits patiently, before stepping forward to place a loving hand on the shivering one's shoulder. Demyx's eyebrows knitted together momentarily in confusion… It was rather uncharacteristic for the shorter boy to initiate physical contact. Yet, Zexion desperately wanted to make an exception this time around.

Blue eyes remain focused on the beige carpet, then flicker upwards to meet Zexion's stare. "Heh," he laughs miserably, "uhm… no one turned in my cap," the teen spoke it as a statement, and closed his lips to let shorter adolescent confirm it. The slate-haired one could only nod solemnly, mind fixated on the shaken boy that stood before him.

_Demyx_ had tears in his eyes, _Demyx_ had scratches lining his face, _Demyx_ wasn't smiling like always... and it bothered the smaller one to no extent, whole being desiring to pull the other into a warm embrace. But, what if he didn't like it? What if Zexion was pushed away, repulsed hands accompanying a stare of disgust? A gargantuan moiety of him couldn't care less, while another half screamed to stay away.

"Uhm… I, uh, got in a little scrap," a melancholy line picked itself up at the edges, forming a very small smile. A tanned hand moved itself upwards to hold the inner part of his elbow, and Zexion watched a sudden shiver of cold flow through the soaking-wet boy. He momentarily prayed that the blonde wouldn't catch some form of hypothermia.

"A-and, they kind of just roughed me up a tiny b-bit, and took some of my stuff. But I'm okay," Demyx suspires, and raises his hands in an appeasing manner, yet the teardrops that gradually begin to stream down his cheeks make his true feelings pellucid.

"Oh, god…" Zexion can only mutter to his guest, once more taking in the disheveled appearance of the blond. "C-come on," he speaks softly, drawing the shivering boy further into his home. As they walk into the living room, the slate-haired teen is repulsed to decry a heavy limp in the younger one's leg. He cannot even comment on the subject, however; it was too upsetting to even raise.

"… I'm sorry," an unusually timid voice whispers, and Zexion turns to face the beaten teen. "I just needed to see you. I thought I'd feel better."

The reason for the cashier's typically silent demeanor was often unknown to those around him. It wasn't that Zexion was diffident with words, you see, he could be very persuasive when it was required. The teen was just rather apathetic in response to most subjects... he wasn't right now.

"Demyx, come here," what if he wasn't gay? What if he was disgusted by this action? Doubts swept through his mind like black water, yet as he spontaneously pulled the ill-fated teen into his arms, he felt no remorse at the action. The abnormal feeling in his chest tightened and intensified at an astounding magnitude, more so than he could ever imagine.

"Z-Zexion," he hears the trembling voice transmute into a hum, and the surprised blond hesitates momentarily. Before long, however, Zexion could feel cold arms wrapping around him, as well. The slate-haired man felt the traces of desperation in his action, how Demyx's fingers curled around the fabric adorning the backside of his shirt, burying his face into the other's neck. He could sense the warm tears that slowly absorbed onto his shirt, and the sensation of it only made him hold Demyx tighter.

Be straightforward, he told himself. The boy was rather dense, after all, and he couldn't just show how he felt. He had to voice it… but with this particular matter, one normally so foreign to Zexion, it was… _scary_. Telling someone about your feelings for them is very, very scary.

"Demyx, how do you feel about me?"

He feels the other drawback quickly, looking at him with eyes full of newfound unease. "L-look, that's not funny. If those guys told you… _personal_ stuff about me, then please, don't pretend it doesn't bother you if it does," although it was meant to be an accusation of Zexion's candor, all he could see before him was the shaking person that was unpredictably hapless, his exuberant and carefree demeanor taking a backseat during these straining circumstances. It hurt Zexion to watch. He… only wanted the other to smile.

"It _doesn't_ bother me, and do you perceive me to be the kind of person who jokes about these things?" he stated, his voice hushed as if to not frighten the other. Demyx still looks unsure, as if it were actually possible for Zexion to feel an urge to somehow harm him.

"No…" the shorter one noted a slight hint of a pout gracing the other's face, and that very nearly evoked a smile from him. "So… then, you're okay with this…?" he dares to speak, blue eyes broadening when Zexion nods his answer.

Demyx's expression was beyond to precious to the other small teen, his unsure demeanor vanishing, only to be replaced by a gawking stare of amazement. Zexion couldn't withhold a small smile, cobalt eyes filled to the brim with sudden adoration for the boy in front of him. "I… really? You mean it?" was all that he could muster to speak.

The lanky teen let loose a small giggle in response to the blond, which shocked him even more so. "Yes, I mean it," that feeling inside his chest suddenly expanded without warning. It's keeper could only act in response to it, and felt his feet take him forwards a step, and his hands move upwards to hold the other's tanned face affectionately, simultaneously wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. "Hey, Demyx?" he all but whispers, slowly closing in on the other's face.

He can barely mutter a quiet, "yes?" as he stared into the eyes that were fixated on him.

"Can I kiss you?" a dark blush graces the taller one's features, yet he doesn't hesitate to lift a cold hand up to grasp one of Zexion's own, and he intertwines their fingers gently. He can just barely feel his head nodding sweetly in response to the other, and the beginnings of light hair grazing his cheeks softly, tickling ever so slightly.

The smaller teen then leaned forward completely, and their eyelids fluttered shut in sync, as Zexion finally satisfied the desperate urge to press his lips against those belonging to the cheerful blond who's company he felt that he could surely grow to fall in love with.

Zexion felt gentle hands weave through his hair, and the reciprocation of a gentle kiss fall onto his lips without further hesitance. And, even though it wasn't necessarily protocol, he swore the slightest bit of a smile light up on Demyx's face, perky attitude shining through, even in moments like this.

It was enough to assure Zexion that, perhaps slowly, or maybe quicker than he ever thought possible… he would undoubtedly love this boy unconditionally.


End file.
